Part of the Collection
by Ms.Madeline
Summary: When on a case involving three missing persons, Sam runs into a young woman who shrinks him to 4 inches tall using a curse from an old spell book. She takes him to become a part of her strange doll collection along with the others she abducted. This leaves Dean to work through the case and find his brother. (Takes place between s2 eps 15 and 16) (size!fic)
1. Chapter 1

It was half past five in the evening when Dean pulled the Impala up in front of the Crown Point Public Library. He put the car into park before turning to look at his brother in the passenger's seat.

Sam shoved the pile of files and police reports he had been pouring over during the trip from the Crown Point Police Department to the town's library up onto the dashboard in front of him.

"No getting distracted by all the books alright, I don't need you going into geek heaven in the middle of a case." Dean said with a smirk as he glanced over at Sam.

Sam rolled his eyes and threw his brother a look before pushing open the car door and stepping out.

"Meet me back at the motel when you're done." Dean called, leaning over towards the right side of the car.

Sam gave a wave of acknowledgement before shutting the Impala's door and turning towards the front steps of the library.

After finishing up the trickster case at that university, the two hunters had received a call from Ellen about a case she had caught wind of. Apparently there had been three missing persons reports the past couple weeks in the town of Crown Point, Indiana. All three people had no obvious relation to each other except that they had recently disappeared without any trace. The first one, no one was really sure where he had been when he went missing. The second was last seen at the local mall, where Dean would be heading to check out the security footage. The latest one, a librarian at the Crown Point Public Library, was reported missing just a couple days ago. Sam hoped something could be gleaned from a visit to the library.

The first thing Sam noticed when he stepped through the front doors of the library, was the security camera positioned right outside the doorway with a perfect look at the entrance. Hopefully security footage had captured something of substance, something the police might have missed when they undoubtedly looked at it.

The Crown Point library was pretty impressive, considering the smaller size of the town. It looked like it was probably built fairly recently, likely to replace the old original town library. To the left of the entrance there was a long desk where a dark haired woman that looked to be in her late twenties sat alone, invested in whatever she was looking at on the computer screen in front of her.

"Excuse me," Sam said, approaching the woman, "I'm Agent Morse, with the FBI. I'm investigating the Samantha Simmons disappearance." He told her politely, holding up his false badge for her to see.

The woman looked up startled from her computer screen. Her expression of uncertainty shifted to one of remorse as she realized what he was there for.

"Oh, right. You know, I talked to an officer about that already." She told him unhappily.

Sam nodded as he slid the badge back into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, "I know, and I wouldn't bother you if it weren't necessary. However, FBI has to conduct its own separate investigation." Sam explained.

The woman nodded in understanding. "I'll tell you what I told the officer, I didn't see anything because I wasn't here. Samantha was the only one working here at the time, filling in for me actually. I had a bachelorette party I wanted to go to, if you can believe it." The woman said with a humorless laugh.

Sam's eyes softened. "It's not your fault Ms….Anderson." He told her gently after reading the name 'Julia Anderson' off of the name tag pinned to her shirt. "We'll do whatever we can to find her." He assured her.

Julia let out a sad sigh and nodded. "I know, I just wish I could be of more help. All I have is the footage from the security camera at the entrance which the police don't seem to think has much on it." She told him.

Sam knew that just because the cops hadn't caught anything important on the security tape, didn't mean there was nothing there. "Is there only the one camera?" He asked Julia.

"Yeah, there's only one entrance and no one saw the need to install a whole bunch of security cameras in a place where the majority of items where free to take anyway. Guess no one thought someone would get abducted from here." Julia murmured sadly.

"That's alright. I'd like to take a look at the footage, but first I need to take a look around, if that's ok with you?" Sam wasn't all that optimistic that he'd find any clues in the library, were it an older building it could be possible that there was some sort of hidden passageway that had allowed the kidnapper to get out without going past the security camera. But seeing as the library seemed to be a fairly new build, that seemed unlikely.

"Yes, uh-go ahead." Julia told him.

Sam gave her an appreciative smile before heading off to look around the library. While it was a large library, it seemed fairly empty, he had only noticed two other people other than the librarian when he had come in.

Sam weaved his way between the many tall shelves of books, hoping for some sort of clue to show up that the cops might have missed. Sam was near the back of the library, in between the two last bookshelves on that side when he heard a voice behind him saying a jumble of words that were definitely not English.

Sam whipped around to see a young woman, with long strawberry blonde hair and a ribbon tied around her head like a hairband standing there, clutching a large and very old looking book.

Sam moved forward to grab the book away from her, whatever it was that she was saying sounded an awful lot like a hex or curse of some sort, certainly not something he wanted to let her finish.

"Stop!" Sam shouted, his reaching hand just a few inches away from taking hold of the book. However, before Sam could grab it, the woman finished with her chanting and a heavy wave of dizziness hit Sam like a truck. He let out a groan of pain and pressed a hand to his pounding head as he stumbled backwards.

"Just relax, let it happen." Sam heard the woman coo softly as he fell to his hands and knees. Sam tried to pull himself back up to his feet, but he could feel himself go lightheaded, he knew it was only a matter of time before he passed out.

Sure enough, in a matter of moments Sam had slipped into unconsciousness. However, it lasted only briefly. When Sam opened his eyes a few minutes later, his head was swimming. It took a few moments for everything to come into focus. But when it did, Sam was sure he was dreaming, or hallucinating. To the left and right of him, two absolutely massive walls extended up. The longer Sam looked, he realized that what he was looking at were a bookshelves, only they were unbelievably huge. But, if those were two giant bookshelves, then that meant…

With a gulp, Sam looked forward to see a pair of turquoise shoes the size of cars standing in front of him. Sam's eyes only widened further as he lifted his gaze up to see the rest of the towering woman in front of him.

The woman looked down at him, a wide smile plastered on her face. "Gotcha."


	2. Chapter 2

Before Sam could even fully comprehend what was happening to him, a giant hand swept down out of nowhere and took hold of him. Fingers almost as long as he was tall wrapped around his body, pinning his arms to his sides. Sam let out a grunt of effort as he attempted to wrench himself free of the unrelenting grip, but he wasn't strong enough. Sam felt a wave of powerlessness come over him as he realized he was incapable of breaking the grip of a single hand in the state he was in.

As the hand trapping him rose up into the air, Sam's stomach dropped as if he was on a particularly extreme roller coaster at a theme park. Air rushed past him as he was brought up to be level with his captor's still grinning face.

Seeing a face the size of a billboard right in front of you was more than a little unsettling, in fact it was goddamn sickening. He could make out details he didn't think he would be able to at his normal size. Everything just seemed to be so magnified.

"From the moment I saw you, I knew you were meant to be!" She exclaimed in a hushed tone, likely so as to not draw any attention from anyone else in the library. "You couldn't be more perfect for my collection." She told him brightly.

Sam glared back at the woman with a look of disgust on his face. This woman was clearly a nutjob. "So you're a witch." He concluded, trying to keep the anxiety about the current predicament he was in out of his voice.

The woman's expression changed, she made a face as though offended. "That's an awful mean thing to say. I'm no witch. I just...acquired a book with some handy spells in them is all." She told him cheerfully. "A nice old man at an antique store gave it to me for $300, which is a real steal when you think about it."

Though she could be lying, Sam saw no reason for her to at this point. If she was telling the truth, that meant she was just some girl that had picked up a dangerous spellbook from a shop and decided to use it on people for some yet to be determined purpose. That at least made her considerably less dangerous, though she was plenty threatening to him at his current size.

"You need to let me go and turn me back now." Sam demanded, ignoring the fact that he didn't have much room to be making demands.

The woman gave him a childishly sad face, one that seemed relatively insincere. "I know it may be difficult for you to understand right now, but I promise that I'm taking you where you belong. It's destiny that I found you, because you're destined to join my collection." She told him, as if speaking to a naive child.

Sam had heard so much about destiny and who...or what he was destined to become lately that he was more than a little tired of it. He really didn't need to be getting it from this obviously batty woman, even if what she was telling him wasn't for once that he was destined to become some soldier in a demonic army.

Sam opened his mouth to shout back an angry retort but before he could, the hand that was still tightly holding him moved again. "No time to chat now though, we gotta get you back home." The woman said in a whisper.

The woman's unoccupied hand pulled open the flap of the faded pink messenger bag she had at her side. Sam's stomach lurched once again as he was moved over to open bag. He struggled desperately in the grip that held him, but it proved to be fruitless as he was easily moved into the bag and unceremoniously dropped inside.

With a painful thump, Sam landed at the bottom of the bag on top of several large objects. He scrambled to get back to his feet and try to find some way to get out, but before he could even get his bearings, most of the light in the bag disappeared but for a tiny bit that managed to get in past the bag's flap.

The bag lurched, caused by what Sam assumed was the act of the woman outside walking. Sam only barely managed to stay on his feet as the bag bounced in time with his captor's steps.

Sam could feel his heart beating like crazy, he was definitely freaked. Even for him, this was so frigging weird. With all of the hunter knowledge he had gained through a lifetime of being in the hunter life, he had never heard of someone being shrunk before, not that he was necessarily surprised that it was a thing, but he was certainly surprised that he was experiencing it now.

"You are going to love your home, it's just perfect." Sam heard the woman murmur to him excitedly. God, she really was off her rocker.

Sam began to take in his surroundings by the very little light in the bag. He realized the objects he was standing on were various everyday objects, a wallet, a tube of chapstick, a set of keys, a pack of gum and a cell phone. Wait, a cell phone!

Sam began to stumbled his way across the uneven terrain over to the cell phone that rested on the other side of the bag. If he could just get a hold of Dean...

"Checking anything out?" Sam heard a voice say, the voice of the librarian he had spoken to earlier. Sam was tempted to start shouting out for her, get her to take notice and maybe help him get away from this crazy woman. But he knew that that librarian was completely unequipped to deal with the supernatural. Besides, she'd probably just think she was imagining it or something. Who instantly assumed a voice they heard was that of a tiny person in someone else's bag anyway? No, his best bet was to get to that phone and call Dean.

Sam continued making his way over to the cell phone as he heard the woman whose bag he resided in sweetly reply to the librarian. "No, not today. Thanks." Sam rolled his eyes, he was already getting sick of that overly cheery tone.

From the change in the sounds outside the bag, Sam assumed they were now out on the streets. Sam let out a huff and returned his attention back to getting where he needed to.

After what felt like way too long, Sam finally reached the cell phone. It was a flip phone, so with a great bit of effort, Sam managed to flip it open. The screen came alive when the phone was opened, except it was presenting the words "please enter passcode".

Sam let out an angry curse. He didn't know the passcode and he didn't have the means to try to hack it, not when he was about four inches tall and trapped in a bag. Desperately, Sam began entering random numbers, hoping one would unlock the device. After five tries at it, a warning screen popped up, flashing red and then suddenly a blaringly loud siren sound began screaming in his ears.

Sam fell backwards, clutching at his ears in an attempt to block out the painfully loud noise. His eyes were squeezed shut in pain so he didn't notice the hand that descended into the bag until it was right in front of him.

Sam let out a startled yelp and crawled backwards away from the massive thing. He watched as the long fingers wrapped around the still shrieking phone and pulled it up and out of the bag. A moment later the siren sound finally shut off, leaving Sam's ears still ringing.

The woman's chuckling could be heard as she closed up the bag's flap once again. "My phone lets me know when someone's trying to break into it silly." She said. "Besides, you don't need to be calling anyone. Like I said, I'm taking you where you belong." And she said it like a fact, like there was nothing anyone could say or do to convince her otherwise.


	3. Chapter 3

A few minutes after having the phone snatched away from him, Sam remembered his own phone that he had hidden in the pocket of his suit jacket. Hurriedly he pulled it out of his pocket and called Dean's number. But it didn't even ring once. Sam glanced at the top of the screen to see that he was getting exactly no bars. His phone was now too small to even function properly. Angrily, Sam shoved the phone back into his pocket and threw himself down into the corner of the bag to sit and await whatever this insane woman had planned.

After about fifteen minutes of unending jostling in the bag, light finally flooded into the bag. Sam made sure to dive out of the way of the incoming hand as it fished around for the chain of keys. Once the hand found its prize, it rose back up out of the bag and closed the flap again. Sam felt he now knew what it was like for the prizes in claw machines.

Sam heard the sound of the keys jangling outside, followed by the click of a lock. The bag lurched as the woman moved forward into what he assumed would be her house. There was the sound of a door being closed, more jangling key sounds and then light streamed into his prison once again.

Having no desire to be roughly grabbed again by some whack job, Sam scrambled away from the hand that entered into the bag, this time seeking him out. He shoved himself into a corner of the bag, but it didn't last long. The woman's hand quickly found him and once again forced his arms against his sides tightly as it grabbed him and proceeded to carry him out of the bag.

Sam felt a dizziness wash over him at the quick and sudden movements, his head was still spinning when the woman held him up near her face as she had before.

"I just remembered that I haven't even asked your name yet. How rude of me!" She exclaimed, wearing an exaggerated guilt filled look on her face. "My name is Ashley, you can call me Ash if you like, but most people just call me Ashley." She told Sam with a cheery smile on her face. "Your turn." She said expectantly as she continued walking through her house.

From what Sam could tell, she lived alone in a small two floor house. She carried him from the front door and through a living area with the opening to a little kitchen on the other side of the room. He was already planning his escape as he took in as many details about the place as he could. But it would certainly be difficult to get anywhere when he was smaller than a shoe, especially seeing as he had exactly no experience with it.

Sam had no interest in playing this girl's politeness game, not after she'd made him the size of a toy and kidnapped him. "I'll gladly tell you, once you turn me back to normal." He growled, desperately trying to wrench his arms free from Ashley's unrelenting grip.

Ashley let out a disapproving _tut_ as she walked into a room off of the left side of the living area. Sam's eyes went wide as he took in the sight before him. The room's walls were absolutely covered in various dolls cased away in glass containers on top of shelves attached to the walls. Dolls of every kind were present, from Malibu Barbie to some creepy vintage porcelain doll that looked considerably old. But the centerpiece of the room was the dollhouse. It rested atop a table against the back wall of the room. It was clearly an antique type of piece, but Sam guessed it had been restored and touched up fairly recently. It's outside was painted a dark blue color with extremely detailed roofing and decorations on it. It looked to be pretty big for a dollhouse, though Sam wasn't sure if it just appeared that way to him because of his...size predicament.

Sam then noticed the padlock on the dollhouse's front door. Adjustments had clearly been made in order to accommodate the lock that Sam had no doubt kept three people locked inside that dollhouse. He found himself feeling sick again at the thought of three people, three innocent human beings being held prisoner in a dollhouse at the size of dolls, and he was about to join them.

Ashley stopped in front of the dollhouse and then raised Sam up to be more directly in front of her face. "If you don't tell me your name, we won't be able to get to know each other." She said in a sickly sweet voice. Sam let out a surprised gasp of pain as the grip around him suddenly tightened, no doubt causing some considerable bruising.

Ashley was turning violent, it seemed to be something she was willing to resort to in order to get what she wanted. Making her that more of a head case.

Sam grimaced in pain as the tight grip continued, it looked as though she had no intention of stopping until she got what she wanted. Sam figured he'd be no use to anyone with his spine cracked in half, it wasn't worth it, not for this. "It's Sam, alright?" He panted out reluctantly.

As quickly as it had come, the harsh grip disappeared, replaced with the firm but at least not potentially bone crushing grip from earlier. Ashley smiled happily, glossing over her brief violent moment. "Sam, huh. I like it, it's cute for you." She said with a playful giggle. Sam didn't bother to conceal the dark look on his face, even if this woman could probably tear him in half if she wanted to, he wasn't about to cower.

Ashley ignored his expression and instead proceeded to pull something off of a hook on the wall behind the dollhouse: a key. "Time for you to meet your new housemates!"

* * *

After meticulously watching all of the security footage of the Southlake Mall from the day Reece Laughlin seemingly disappeared from it, Dean hit the same brick wall the cops had. The last shot the security footage caught of Reece was of him going into the men's restroom, which he never came out of. A woman could be seen entering into the bathroom a short time after Reece went in. Obviously this was suspicious, however she came out a little while later by herself and the cops were sure she couldn't have had anything to do with it because of that. That and the footage was too blurry to determine her identity anyway. The police chief was convinced the tape had been tampered with somehow, which was possible, but Dean wasn't willing to rule out the unknown woman as a suspect just yet. There was any number of messed supernatural shit that could have been done to that guy. That woman could have devoured him whole for all he knew. It was too soon to tell what exactly they were dealing with, or even if it was their kind of case.

It was ten past seven by the time Dean pulled the Impala into the parking lot of the Silver Moon Inn. Dean walked past the sleeping motel manager and up the stairs to the second floor where the room he and Sam had rented earlier in the day was located. Dean figured Sam would be back from the library by now, probably with his nose buried in some lore book or his computer.

Dean pulled his room key out of his pocket, unlocked the door and stepped into the room, surprised not to find his brother present. A frown etched itself into Dean's face as he closed the door behind him and glanced around the room. It didn't even look like Sam had been in the room at all, making it unlikely that he had just stepped out for one of those nighttime walks he was always doing for whatever reason.

Dean pulled his cell phone out of the inner pocket of his suit jacket and quickly called Sam's number. He could feel worry ebbing in but he tried to brush it off, maybe the kid had just met a hot librarian and had stricken up a conversation for once. He was probably just fine. Dean was having a hard time convincing himself.

He didn't even get one ring out of the phone, instead a robotic female voice told him "we're sorry, but you are not able to reach that number". Dean tried it three more times, but each time he received the exact same unhelpful answer.

The fact that Sam's phone wasn't even working was alarming and Dean had no intention of waiting around and hoping he'd show up soon.

Dean didn't even bother to change out of his fed threads before heading back out. He'd hit up the library where he would hopefully find Sammy doing perfectly fine, sitting at a table reading some nerdy book.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean knew something was wrong when he pulled up to the library next to two cop cars. He slid out of the Impala and made his way over to the small crowds that had formed at the bottom of the steps that led up to the library's front doors, including the police chief he and Sam had talked to earlier that day. The police chief turned to see Dean, then murmured something to the officer he had been talking to and walked up to meet Dean.

"Agent Walsh, so I see you got the news." The police chief, Chief Carlton said.

Dean shook his head, "No, actually I was just driving past and I saw all the cop cars. What happened?" He asked, trying to keep the panic out of his voice as he realized Sam was nowhere among the crowd.

The police chief looked surprised. "Oh, well it's your partner. Agent, it seems he's gone missing." He told him.

Dean felt a heaviness come over him at the confirmation of his fears. Sam had been taken by whatever had grabbed the last three victims.

Carlton continued, "The librarian said he came in to take a look around after Samantha Simmons disappeared from there. Says he went to look around the back of the library, but when she went back to look for him, he was nowhere to be found." He explained.

"What about the security footage, isn't there a camera?" Dean asked, a hint of irritation in his tone.

Carlton nodded. "Yeah, and it doesn't record your partner leaving the library at all, like in the case of Ms. Simmons. We'll have a closer look at it, but from the looks of it, it doesn't capture anything that could lead us to a culprit." He said with a shrug.

Dean refrained from saying something harsh, this guy's lack of competence was getting on his nerves, especially with Sammy missing.

"You should talk to Ms. Anderson, she's the librarian that was working when your partner disappeared." Carlton said, gesturing over to a miserable looking girl who was sitting at the bottom step of the stairs that led up to the library's door.

Dean nodded, glad to get away from Officer Inept. He made his way over to the woman and pulled out his badge to present to her. "May I?" He asked, gesturing to the space next to her on the step.

The woman glanced up from her lap, a bit startled. Once she saw the (fake) FBI badge, she nodded solemnly.

Dean sat down next to the woman, Julia Anderson according to the name on her shirt. He had been right earlier, she was pretty hot, not that it really mattered anymore, not with Sam missing.

"So, you met my partner earlier?" Dean asked, adopting the gentle tone Sammy did so well when talking to vics and witnesses.

Julia nodded despondently. "Yes. Agent Morse, he seemed so kind." She said through a choked back sob.

Dean wasn't nearly as good with the whole emotional thing as Sam was, but he put a comforting hand on her shoulder anyways, hoping it wouldn't be too awkward.

"Sorry," Julia said tearfully, "it's just that first it was Samantha and now somebody else and I just can't help but feel responsible-"

"Trust me, it's not your fault." Dean interrupted, not wanting her to get too far into self loathing, not when he needed some information from her concerning what had happened to his brother. "Just tell me exactly what happened." He instructed.

Julia took in a long breath and nodded. "He came in and we discussed the security footage and he said he would want to take a look at it, but first he wanted to have a look around the library." She said. "I saw him go towards the back of the library, but the library's so big and the bookshelves get in the way, I couldn't see him from behind my desk." She explained. "After a while, I started to wonder why he hadn't come back to look at the security footage, so I decided to head back and look for him. But I searched through the whole goddamn library, he was nowhere!" She cried. "Then I looked at the footage from the camera at the entrance to see if he had left for some reason and I hadn't noticed, but he was never recorded leaving. After that I called the cops." She told Dean, sadly shaking her head. "I just don't understand how it's possible!" That was the big question wasn't it?

These disappearances were happening at multiple locations, so the chances of it being a spirit behind this were slim. Dean was convinced this was some sort of monster or creature, but how it was pulling off these miraculous disappearances, Dean didn't know.

"Do you know if the police have confiscated the security footage yet?" Dean asked Julia. He hoped not, he really didn't feel like jumping through hoops to get his eyes on it.

Julia shook her head, "No, I don't think so. I'm pretty sure it's still on the library's main computer." She told him.

"Would you mind showing me?" He asked, getting to his feet and offering a hand out to Julia.

Julia raised her eyebrows. "Am I allowed to do that?" She asked him, unsure.

"You are if I say you are." Dean told her confidently.

Julia hesitated for a moment before nodding and taking his hand, allowing him to pull her up to her feet.

Luckily the officers standing in front of the library entrance didn't even bother to question Dean and Julia entering into the library, apparently deciding not to mess with an FBI agent. Had the police chief not been busy blabbing away on his phone with his back turned to the library, Dean was sure he would have stopped them from going in, questioned them and just been a general pain in the ass.

Julia put in the correct passwords to access the security footage files and began to play it from when it recorded Sam first coming into the library. Two people left the library after Sam came in, a middle aged looking man and a girl that looked no older than twenty, but no Sam.

"Do you know who they are?" Dean asked Julia. They seemed like normal people, but Dean knew that didn't mean shit when it came to dealing with supernatural creatures. They were the only lead he had anyway.

"Umm, not well. The guy comes in a couple times a week, but he never checks out any books and doesn't have a library card, so I don't know his name." She told him. "The girl I think is Ashley something, she comes to the library pretty often to check out books or read books at the tables. I can pull up her information if you want." Julia offered.

"Yeah, please do." Dean said.

Julia opened up a file on an Ashley Warbeck on the computer. The information the library had on her seemed fairly limited, not that he expected it to be particularly invasive. It just had her name, phone number and home address. She was definitely on the suspect list, but the other guy seemed more likely considering the lack of any information on him at the library. Meaning Dean would have to use facial recognition software to find out who he was, which he didn't have. Unfortunately he'd have to get the police to do it for him.

"That's all I need, thank you." Dean told Julia before turning to leave. He didn't have time to flirt with her, even if she really did have that whole hot librarian thing down. He needed to find Sam.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam watched as Ashley slid the small silver key into the lock and unlocked it. She pulled the lock off of the door and set it off to the side.

Sam took in a sharp breath as Ashley moved him over the table that the dollhouse sat upon. She then opened her hand, causing Sam to fall down onto the table. He tried to land on his feet, but the drop had been so sudden and without warning, he ended up stumbling down onto all fours.

Hurriedly he staggered back to his feet and turned around to see Ashley now looming over him intimidatingly. She wore an eager smile, as though she couldn't be more pleased with the situation. "Go on in, meet everyone. I've got to go work on making you some clothes." She told him cheerfully. "The suit doesn't really, well suit you!" She said with a giggle. The girl really was treating him like a doll, making him clothes so that she could dress him up. This was by far the most messed up situation Sam had gotten himself into.

He threw a serious bitch face up at Ashley, but she only seemed to ignore it. "No time for dilly-dallying, go in!" She told him.

Seeing no other viable options, Sam turned around and made his way to the white painted front door of the dollhouse. When Sam touched the door's knob, he could tell it was made out of real metal, showing just how much detail was put into this dollhouse. He turned the knob, pulled open the door and slowly stepped into the house. Before he could even close the door behind him, it was suddenly slammed shut from the outside. He heard the sound of a lock clicking shut and knew that he was now a prisoner in the dollhouse.

Sam ran a hand tiredly across his face. "Just perfect." He grumbled.

He rotated around just in time to see a woman running down a set of stairs. She had dirty blonde hair that was pulled back into a messy ponytail and wore a pair of cat eye style glasses. Sam remembered seeing her face before, in a police missing person file.

"I can't believe she's done it again." The woman breathed as she came to a stop in from of him.

"You're Samantha Simmons, aren't you?" Sam asked sadly.

The woman looked surprised but nodded. "Y-yeah, how did you know?" She asked him.

Sam let out a long sigh and a humorless laugh. "I was looking for you." He told her, pulling out the fake FBI badge from his pocket and holding it up for her to see.

A look of horror formed on her face. "Oh God, if she took you, she could take anyone!" She cried.

She shook her head and looked up towards the ceiling. "This is absolutely insane." She said. "How the hell is it possible to shrink someone?"

Sam figured it had to be some kind of witchcraft, though he wasn't about to share that with Samantha, she had enough going on without having to factor the supernatural into her life. So Sam just shrugged and began to take in his surroundings.

The interior of the dollhouse seemed to be just as detailed as the exterior, all of the furniture looked to be handmade. However, everything still looked just slightly off, like giant hands had made them. The general design style wasn't modern, it looked to be early 1900s or something. Across from the front door was the staircase Samantha had come down. To the left side of it was a sitting room and to the right a kitchen, complete with all the appliances you would see in a kitchen from the early 1900s.

"Is there power in is place?" Sam asked suddenly, noticing that several of the light fixtures were actually giving off light.

Samantha looked a bit startled by the question but nodded anyway. "Yeah, and working water and plumbing and everything. I think there's some sort of complex system beneath the table. It's kind of freaky how detailed everything is." She told him.

"Like she made it for real people to live in." Sam murmured.

"Ashley is insane." Samantha said, a look of disgust on her face.

"Did you know her, before this?" Sam asked her.

Samantha shook her head. "No, I mean not personally. I'd seen her at the library I work at several times and checked out books for her before, but it's not like we'd ever talked." She told him with a shrug.

Just then two more people came down the stairs, a muscled, dark skinned younger looking guy and a man that looked to be in his early forties. Sam recognized both of them as the two other missing people, Reece Laughlin and Martin Kelsey.

"None of us knew her before this, she's insane." One of the men, Martin Kelsey said, putting emphasis on the word insane.

"She cornered me in the parking garage outside my office at night, started chanting nonsense out of a dirty old book like some kind of cultist." He cried angrily.

Sam turned to Reece. "What about you?" He asked him.

Reece let out a long sigh, "I was in the men's room at the mall, she came in and started doing the same thing. We were the only ones in there so she was just able to grab me and throw me into her bag after she...y'know." He said with a shiver.

"What about you? How did she managed to grab an FBI agent?" Samantha asked Sam.

"He's an FBI agent?" Martin scoffed.

Sam rubbed his neck, slightly embarrassed. "Uh yeah, I was investigating all of your disappearances. I was at the library where Samantha works, taking a look around and she got me when I was out of sight near the back of the library." He explained.

"Oh, so the FBI really has their best guys on this I see." Martin spat sarcastically. Sam chose to ignore it, he wasn't actually an FBI agent anyway.

"I was working the late shift at the library, which usually I don't do, but I was filling in for someone." Samantha started. "Ashley was the last one still there, there was only five minutes until we were suppose to close." She explained. "But then Ashley just came up to me, said something about me being 'perfect for her collection' then started the chanting and the next thing I knew I was the size of goddamn doll." Samantha hissed, shaking her head regretfully.

Sam nodded, "It seems her motive is that we're all 'perfect for her collection'."

"I've been here for three weeks!" Martin yelled. "I don't have time to be a part of some crazy girl's fucked up collection! I am on my way to getting a serious promotion, now I'm going to be set back _months_ for missing so many important meetings." He spat furiously.

Samantha threw a dirty look over at Martin. "You think that's any of our faults?" She asked icily, clearly fed up with his attitude.

Martin didn't responded, but kept up his sulky expression and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Have you guys looked for any way out?" Sam asked them, despite the fact that he knew even if they did get out of the house, they'd be met with a long drop down to the floor that could either severely injure them or potentially even kill them.

"There's only the one door, which Ashley decided to put a lock on when she caught me trying to climb down the leg of the table one time." Reece explained. "And all of the windows are completely sealed, they won't even budge." He told him with a sigh.

"What about breaking the glass?" Sam asked. It wasn't the most ideal, but if it was their only option…

Reece shook his head, "The windows are well reinforced, I think they might even be made out of bullet resistant glass. Which we could maybe somehow break with enough force, that is if we weren't about four inches tall." He explained grimly.

Sam groaned. It seemed this Ashley girl had thought of everything, she really didn't want any of her "collection" getting out. Which meant at this point they may need to rely on Dean. Sam knew it wouldn't take Dean long to figure out he was missing, he'd come to the conclusion that he was taken by the same thing that had taken the others. After that, it was just a matter of him working the case and finding the culprit.

"Well my partner is out there looking for me, he'll find us soon." Sam had confidence in his brother. This unfortunately wasn't the first time he had been abducted, and the last time Dean had found him fairly quickly, considering.

"Oh I'm sure," Martin drawled, "if he's as good of an FBI agent as you." He said sardonically.

"I hope you're right Agent…" Samantha said, searching for a name.

"Oh, it's Sam. You can just call me Sam." He told her, not in the mood to go by the fake name on his FBI badge.

"Well I hope you're right Sam, because God knows I am not going to be somebody's dolly." She told him wryly.


	6. Chapter 6

After establishing that there wasn't much they could do about escaping at the moment, Samantha gave Sam a quick tour of the upstairs of the dollhouse. Like the rest of the house, the upstairs rooms had an expensive vintage style to them. There were two full bathrooms, complete with miniaturized bars of soap and glass bottles of shampoo. Two of the three bedrooms each contained only one queen sized bed, but the third bedroom had two separate beds. Seeing as the bedrooms with the queens had already been taken by Martin and Reece, Sam would be sharing the room with the two beds with Samantha, that is if he didn't get out of there soon.

Sometimes Sam could almost forget that he was standing in a dollhouse and that there was a gigantic world outside. Unfortunately however, whenever he glanced out a window and saw the massive landscape outside it, he was quickly reminded.

Both Reece and Martin had withdrawn into their own bedrooms, both seemingly not in the mood to socialize, not that Sam could blame them, their lives had just been turned absolutely upside down.

Samantha sat cross legged on her bed, her back towards the wall so that she was facing towards Sam who sat in a similar position on his own bed across from her.

"You know, _Honey I Shrunk the Kids_ used to be my favorite movie when I was younger." She told him with a bitter laugh. "I always thought that seeing the world from a miniature size would be so cool." She said, shaking her head. "Turns out it's not all it's cracked up to be." She said with a sigh.

Sam smirked. "Yeah, I've seen some pretty weird stuff, but yeah, nothing like this." He admitted.

"How long have you been in the FBI?" Samantha asked. "I gotta say, you do look pretty young to be in the FBI."

"Only a few months." Sam lied. He didn't particularly enjoy lying to Samantha, she seemed to be a nice girl, but telling her that he was a monster hunter wasn't really something he wanted to do if he could avoid it. Plus he didn't really have the means to prove it to her if she chose to be skeptical and just thought he was some crazy.

"Oh, is that why you got captured so easily?" Samantha asked with a playful smirk.

Sam chuckled, "Yeah, maybe."

Sam pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time, which was pretty much the only thing it was useful for now. It was 8:37, a little less than three hours after he had been shrink-napped.

"I assume yours doesn't work either." Samantha said, pulling her own cell phone out of her jacket pocket.

"Yeah. Apparently being smaller than a fingernail makes it unable to pick up signals, imagine that." He said, shaking his head as he slid it back into his pocket.

"It's getting kind of late." Samantha noted after also checking the time on her phone. "You hungry?" She asked. "We don't have set meals or anything, though I think Ashley would like us to. She told me I could 'make dinner for the boys now' when she dropped me off at the house the first time." She said with distaste. "Which is exactly why I don't." She added with a grin.

Sam smiled, Samantha really didn't seem to be the type to take anyone's shit, which Sam could respect.

"Uh sure. You have food in here?" He asked, wondering how they could when all food was giant now.

"Some of it is just little chunks taken off of normal sized food, but I think she buys some of it from like a company that makes tiny food for some reason." She said with a shrug as she hopped off the bed and started heading out the door, gesturing to Sam for him to follow.

Sam followed Samantha down into the kitchen. Samantha grabbed two plates out of a cupboard and set them on a counter, she then pulled open the fridge and took out a two tins and a jar with what looked like mayo in it and set them on the counter. She opened up a cupboard and pulled out a perfectly proportioned loaf of bread.

"That is pretty impressive, though I don't know how much business a company that makes tiny food is gonna get." Sam said, accepting the (proportionally) large knife Samantha held out for him to take.

Samantha opened the tins to reveal that one held jagged pieces of bologna that was obviously ripped off of a much larger piece. The other held similarly shaped slices of cheddar cheese. Sam cut four slices of bread out of the loaf, handing two to Samantha and placing the others on his plate.

After finishing constructing their sandwiches, they sat down at the small wooden table in the right side of the kitchen and dug in.

"So, do you really think your partner is going to look for us in the dollhouse of some girl?" Samantha asked, no hidden derisiveness in her tone.

Even though Dean was more than familiar with weird supernatural stuff, they'd never dealt with shrinking before, it definitely wouldn't be his first guess. Sam certainly hadn't assumed Samantha and the others had been shrunk before he'd experienced it himself.

Sam chuckled, "Uh, it certainly won't be the first place he looks," He said with a small smirk, "but he's good at figuring stuff out, I'm confident he'll find us." He assured Samantha.

They had both just finished eating their sandwiches when a booming voice from outside the dollhouse practically made Sam jump out of his seat.

"Enjoy your first night Sam! I'll have your pajamas finished by tomorrow night!" Ashley's voice called in loudly. Sam turned to glance over to the window near the front door. He could see a dark shape outside, it blocked out a lot of the light that had come from the ceiling light outside the dollhouse. "Goodnight everyone, see you tomorrow." She said cheerfully before Sam heard her receding footsteps. A moment later darkness suddenly fell over the house as the light outside was turned off. It was like night and day. The only light was now provided by the lights inside the dollhouse.

Sam glanced back over at Samantha who just rolled her eyes before grabbing both of the plates and setting them in the sink.

"I don't know about you, but I'm tired." She said, heading towards the stairs. "I'm going to shower in the morning but if you want to shower tonight, go ahead and knock yourself out." She told him.

Sam stood up and followed Samantha up the stairs and into their shared room. "I'll do it another time, I don't have any clean clothes to change into anyway." He said.

"There's a washer in the closet in the hall you can use." Samantha told him. "Ashley made me some clothes, but they consisted almost entirely of overly girly dresses and skirts." She said with an eye roll. "So far I've just washed the same set of clothes, but if we're here much longer I think I'll probably have to give in." She sighed as she tugged off her jacket and tossed it onto the floor next to her bed.

"The pajamas are standable I guess." Samantha said with a shrug, grabbing a pale blue button up pajama top and matching pants that were laying at the end of her bed. "I'm gonna go change and brush my teeth. I think there's an extra toothbrush in the drawer you can use when I'm done in there." She added before slipping out the door and into the nearest bathroom.

Sam tugged off his suit jacket and tie and tossed them into a pile on the floor before slipping his shoes off and setting them aside. He would just have to sleep in his slacks and white button up shirt for the night, not that he generally all that picky about sleeping conditions considering he usually slept in uncomfortable motel beds.

After Samantha came back, Sam quickly brushed his teeth and used the bathroom. When he came back into the bedroom, Samantha was already tucked away under the bed sheets with her eyes shut. Sam closed the bedroom door and flicked off the light before sliding into his own bed. Sam hadn't realized just how tiring being shrunken and kidnapped had been until he got into the bed. He quickly drifted off to sleep, now able to temporarily forget he was the size of a doll, sleeping in a dollhouse.

* * *

It took a ridiculous amount of convincing over the phone for Dean to get Chief Carlton to agree to identifying the guy in the library security footage. First Dean had to convince him that it couldn't wait until morning, which Carlton grumped on and on about. Then he had to persuade him that the FBI's facial recognition program was malfunctioning, which was a pretty tough lie to sell, even if Carlton wasn't the brightest. It wasn't until about ten that Dean finally got the email containing the files of the man in the video, a Theodore Brantley.

Dean spent the night pouring over Brantley's files. He looked pretty bland, just a 46 year old sales manager married to some woman named Susan Brantley. He had no past criminal record other than a couple parking tickets and a drunken disorderly when he was twenty-two. Nothing to prove that he was the mystery monster, but that didn't take him off the suspect list. Dean would give him a little visit the next day, check things out for himself.

After determining that there wasn't really anything else for him to do until morning, Dean tried to get at least a tiny bit of rest, but it proved unsuccessful. Every time Dean closed his eyes, all he could see was his little brother in some new kind of horrible situation.

"I'm gonna find you Sammy." Dean murmured into the crisp hotel bed sheets.


	7. Chapter 7

The first thing Sam noticed when he opened his eyes was that his brother wasn't lying in the bed across from him. Seeing Dean lying in the bed next to his was something that Sam was very used to, something he had come to get used to again after leaving Stanford. But the bed across from him was empty, and after recognizing that, the memories of the day before came rushing back. He was in fact residing in a dollhouse, and this was something he could do because he was currently approximately four inches tall. Wonderful.

Sam ran his hands over his face with a sigh before pushing the sheets off of himself and pulling himself out of the bed. He grabbed his cell phone and checked the time. It was 11:35 in the morning, he had slept in much later than he usually did. It wasn't surprising that Samantha had already gotten up.

Sam quickly put his shoes back on, but decided to leave the jacket and tie behind. After using the nearby bathroom, he descended the stairs, from where he could hear voices come from the kitchen.

"I'm just saying, relying on this guy's partner is stupid. There's no way he's going to look for us in a goddamn dollhouse." Sam heard Martin say. "We have to find our own way out." He hissed.

"If you have any ideas, I'm happy to hear them Martin." Samantha said, obviously irritated.

Sam stepped into the kitchen just in time to catch the downcast gaze of Martin, who clearly did not have any ideas to offer. All three of the dollhouse captives sat at the small kitchen table, various food dishes sat in front of them. All three gazes turned his way as Sam entered the kitchen.

"Hey." Samantha said with a warm smile. Reece offered a head nod of greeting while Martin just continued to glare Sam's way.

"There's a piece of toast leftover if you want it." Samantha offered, gesturing over to a plate next to a toaster on the counter. "It might be a little cold by now, you can have cereal or whatever else you can manage to scrounge up otherwise." She said with a shrug.

"Thanks." Sam said with a soft smile before grabbing the plate of toast and pulling up the last available chair at the table.

"We were just discussing Martin's lack of ideas for getting out of here, and why our only real option is to wait for your partner to find us." Samantha told him with a smirk.

Martin scowled over at Samantha. "No one is going to look for four missing people in a dollhouse, I don't care if they're the greatest FBI agent in the world." He retorted angrily.

Sam sighed. He did have faith in his brother, that he'd find a way to figure out where he was. And even if Martin and the others didn't know that Dean knew more than the average FBI agent, Sam couldn't help but agree with Martin. He didn't like waiting around, waiting to be saved. He would much rather try to find a way out on his own, but Ashley had them locked down tight, there didn't seem to be a way for them to make an escape.

"It's the only option we've got right now. Until we can find a way out on our own, the only thing we can do is wait." Sam said before taking a bite of his toast. Martin rolled his eyes but didn't say anything else.

"Is there any particular schedule Ashley keeps?" Sam asked. Even if they didn't have a way of escape yet, they could at least be ready should an opportunity arise.

Reece shook his head. "Not really, she rarely leaves the house, we know that." He said. "From what we've been able to pick up, she works as a call center representative, which apparently you can work from home as." Ashley certainly seemed to be a shut-in type of person, though usually the crazy ones were.

"Thankfully her interaction with us is fairly limited, at least it has been for me." Samantha put in. "She hasn't been near me since I first got here."

"That's because you've only been here four days." Martin growled resentfully. "She takes us out for 'exercise' like we're dogs or something." He spat furiously.

"She drops us off in-well it's basically like a play pen type area that's in her office upstairs." Reece explained. "She'll do it when she's working, that's how we figured out she's a call center rep." He added. "I think she expects us to run around or something." He said, shaking his head in distaste.

"Are those the only times she takes you out of the dollhouse?" Sam asked.

Reece nodded, "So far."

As Sam helped the others clean up the breakfast dishes, he began to try to formulate a potential escape plan in his mind. Obviously it would be difficult to know exactly if it would be possible until he saw the pen for himself, and the chances of being able to pull it off with Ashley in the room would be slim, but it would be worth a shot. Sam just didn't feel right sitting around doing nothing, just waiting and hoping his brother would come to his rescue.

* * *

Dean had forced himself to wait till noon to go knocking on Theodore Brantley's door. Seeing as he had been awake pretty much all night, he had been ready to go at six o'clock in the morning, but he knew no one would open the door ready to answer questions that early in the morning. So Dean waited, passing the time mostly by anxiously pacing and sitting on the bed with his head in his hands.

When Dean finally did allow himself to show up at Brantley's house, he was deadly determined to get the answers he needed. He pounded his fist onto the door none too politely, but he was way past the point of caring.

"Can I help you?" A slightly annoyed looking heavily stubbled middle aged man asked after pulling open the door.

"Are you Theodore Brantley?" Dean asked, pulling out his FBI badge and quickly displaying it for the man to see before shoving it back into his pocket.

Brantley's eyes widened at the appearance of the badge. "Uh yes. Why?" He asked, sounding flustered.

"I'd need to talk to you about the recent disappearances." Dean told him bluntly, skipping the whole sounding formal and professional part.

Brantley wore a look of surprise, he was certainly playing the part of someone who had been completely caught off guard, but that in no way took him off the suspect list.

"Um-ok...come in I guess." He said, stepping aside to allow Dean into the house.

"Is anyone else home?" Dean asked as he took a seat in the chair in the living room, across from the sofa Brantley sat in.

"No, my wife's at work, but can I ask why you're questioning me about this? I didn't even know there had been any disappearances." Brantley asked anxiously.

Dean narrowed his eyes at Brantley. "Two people have disappeared from the local library, a library you were recorded to have been at during the time of one of the disappearances yesterday." He told him ungently.

"A-and you think I had something to do with it? I was just using the computer there yesterday, I swear!" Brantley cried.

Dean glanced past Brantley to see a perfectly good desktop computer sitting behind him against the wall. "Can I ask why you were using a library computer when you have one at your house?" Dean asked, accusation in his tone.

Brantley's face sudden turned a deep shade of red and he began to fidget nervously. "I-uh…" He trailed off, apparently unable to conjure some kind of excuse.

"You tell me the truth now or things are going to get very bad for you." Dean threatened unforgivingly.

"Alright, alright, I'll tell you! Just please don't tell my wife!" Brantley pleaded.

Dean narrowed his eyebrows. "Don't tell your wife what?"

"I-I was downloading porn alright! It gives your computer viruses if you download it and my wife would notice. So I downloaded it onto the computer at the library and put it on a hard drive." Brantley admitted frantically. "B-but that's not illegal is it? A man's allowed to do that? I didn't have anything to do with any disappearances I swear!" He cried.

Dean let out a long sigh. This guy wasn't behind the abductions, he could tell. He was just some guy who was trying to hide his dirty little secrets from his wife. Which meant Dean was looking in the wrong place, and therefore wasting time, more time that Sammy was in this mystery abductor's clutches.

"It's fine, I believe you." Dean sighed.

Brantley let out a sigh of relief. "Oh thank God." He breathed.

"Did you at least notice anything at the library yesterday, anything weird or unusual?" Dean asked. Maybe he could at least get something out of this.

Brantley shook his head. "No, not really. Well other than some weird girl talking to herself, but that's not _that_ unusual, is it?"

"Did you hear what she said?" Dean asked, somewhat doubtful this was relevant, but he figured he may as well get as much information as he could.

Brantley shrugged. "Uh something about 'loving your new home' or something weird like that. I dunno, she seemed to just be a nutjob to me." He said.

Dean wondered if this girl Brantley was talking about could be the girl that had left sometime after Sam had shown up. She was now the one and only suspect Dean had left on his list, and if she was talking to herself, that could potentially make her even more of a suspect. He would have to pull her file and go give her a visit as well. It was the only real lead he had left anyway.

"Alright, well I'm going to need to have a look around your house just in case." Dean told Brantley. He was going to be sure this guy wasn't the culprit before he left.

Brantley crossed his arms over his chest. "Don't you need a warrant for that?" He asked .

Dean nodded. "Technically yes. However, that would include a whole lot of paperwork, as well as getting your wife involved. And I'm sure your wife would be interested to hear the whole story of how I ended up here." He threatened seamlessly.

Dean could practically see a bead of sweat form on Brantley's forehead at the prospect of his wife finding out his dirty secret. "Fine!" He conceded. "I don't have anything to hide anyway." He grumbled.

"Yeah, except porn." Dean mumbled to himself as he got up and began his sweep of the house.

The search through the house provided no incriminating evidence, as Dean had expected. Now he needed to get to the Ashley girl's full files and then pay her a visit. She seemed unassuming enough, but then again, all the greatest monsters did.


	8. Chapter 8

Sam and the others sat around a table, discussing their potential escape attempt. Reece and Martin seemed sure that there would be no getting out of the pen, that it was too high to climb and had no space under it to fit beneath. Sam wondered what their definition of "too high" was, because Sam was convinced that nothing was too high to climb as long as it had hand holds all the way up.

"We could fall and break our legs!" Martin exclaimed after Sam voiced this thought.

"Would you rather be Ashley's plaything for the rest of your life?" Samantha asked, raising a questioning eyebrow at Martin.

"N-no but-" Martin spluttered but before he could finish, Samantha let out a silencing hiss.

"She's coming." She whispered.

Sure enough, the sound of large footfalls could be heard quickly approaching. Sam jumped up to his feet, ready to back as far away from the front of the dollhouse as possible.

"Don't bother," Reece murmured, "You can't get away from her."

A loud creaking noise pierced the air and Sam watched with wide eyes as the entire front of the dollhouse suddenly swung outward. Ashley's face popped up in place of the wall, a cheerful smile on her lips. Sam felt a shiver run through him as her eyes quickly found him and locked him in their gaze.

"Ah, there you are Sam." She said happily. Sam took a step backward, but he didn't get far before a massive hand suddenly came at him. He could only let out a grunt as, for the third time, five long fingers wrapped around his body. As the hand began to pull him out of the house, Sam looked over his shoulder to see Samantha staring at him with a pained expression on her face, looking as though she wished she could do something to help him.

Sam's attention was pulled back to the giant woman holding him when her loud voice thundered around him. For someone with a fairly high pitched voice, it could really be booming, at least to someone the size of an action figure.

"I finished your pajamas and an extra outfit for you." Ashley announced proudly. "I had to guess on the measurements, but I've got a pretty good sense for guessing." She told him with a bright smile.

Sam scowled up at her. "I don't want clothes, I want you to let us go." He said darkly.

Ashley's smile quickly disappeared, to be replaced by a stern pout. "I spent a lot of time working on them." She said, a threatening tone in her voice. "You should really be more appreciative." She scolded.

"We have lives Ashley, people that care about us are looking for us." Sam shouted up at her, hoping to appeal to her conscious, assuming she had one.

An angry pout appeared on Ashley's face. "I don't like your attitude." She seethed. "I was going to take you all up to exercise, but you Sam, you can stay here by yourself." She shouted, her grip on his body tightening slightly.

Before Sam knew what was happening, he was once again shoved into the dollhouse. Ashley dropped him on the floor with little care, causing him to land awkwardly on his side.

He watched as one by one, Ashley grabbed up Samantha, Reece and Martin, placing them each into a small woven basket. Though Ashley had showed no intentions of wanting to seriously hurt any of them, and the three of them had survived alright without him before, Sam didn't like the idea of being separated from them.

Sam scrambled to his feet and moved forward, to do what exactly he didn't really know. But before he could do anything, the front of the dollhouse was once again slammed shut. He rushed up to the window to watch Ashley's receding figure, basket in hand.

* * *

After prying Ashley Warbeck's file out of Chief Carlton's grip, Dean quickly leafed through it before heading over to her house at 217 North East Street. Her record was squeaky clean, not even a parking ticket, but Dean wasn't about to scratch her off the suspect list until he was positive that she was innocent.

Dean locked the Impala and slid the keys into his pocket before stepping up to the front door of the small house and rapping his knuckle on the door.

* * *

It had only been a couple minutes since Ashley had went off with Samantha, Reece and Martin when Sam heard the distant sound of a loud knock on the front door of the house. Sam felt a small rush of hope at the sound. It was probably too much to hope for that it could be Dean, but if it was…

Sam heard the pounding of feet on the staircase outside. Sam pressed his face against the window to see Ashley walking past the open doorway of the doll room and towards the front door. He strained his ears to hear the door being pulled open, followed by, "Can I help you?" in a sickly sweet voice with a clearly annoyed undertone.

"I'm investigating a series of disappearances, I need to ask you some questions." A deep and all too familiar voice said.

Sam couldn't help the wide grin that spread across this face. They were saved. He should have known Dean would figure it out so quickly. But then a sudden dark thought came to Sam. What if Dean didn't find them? Ashley didn't come off as someone who could kidnap four people and unless Dean fully searched the house, he wouldn't find them. Sam had to try to get his attention.

"Dean!" Sam yelled as loudly as his voice would allow him. "Dean, I'm here!" His voice was so much quieter now, it was nothing compared to what it had been. Sam doubted it could be heard all the way out by the front door.

"Oh, well I can assure you that I don't know anything about them." Ashley told Dean innocently.

"Well you were recorded at the scene of the most recent one yesterday, so if you'll let me in so I can ask some questions." Dean responded, unswayed by Ashley's sweet girl act.

"I need to see some ID first." Ashley shot back.

Sam heard Dean let out a long sigh. There was a brief silence as Sam assumed he pulled out his fake badge and showed it to Ashley.

"Ok, c-come in then I guess." Ashley said, Sam could hear the anxiousness in her tone.

There was the sound of the front door closing, and then nearing footsteps. Ashley passed by the doorway again, followed by Dean. The familiar sight of his big brother brought on a small wave of unidentified emotion. He was so close, now Sam just had to get him to find him.

"Dean!" Sam bellowed at the top of his lungs.

* * *

Dean sat down in an excessively puffy armchair across from Ashley who was showing slight tell-tale signs of nervousness. Though it could be chalked up to just being over an FBI agent questioning her, it also could be because she was trying to hide something.

As Dean opened his mouth to ask his first question, he heard a distant and muffled shout. It was indistinct and sounded too small to be from a person. "What was that?" Dean asked, eying Ashley suspiciously.

Ashley plastered a pleasant grin on her face. "Oh that's just the TV, I left it on upstairs." She explained.

Dean found that more than a little suspicious. While the voice had sounded too small to belong to a person, the way this girl was acting led him to believe it wasn't just from a TV show.

"I need to have a look around your house." Dean announced, already getting to his feet. He was in no mood for anymore formalities, he needed to find his brother.

"Hey! You can't do that without a warrant!" Ashley cried, jumping to her feet. "I-I know my rights, I know-"

"I honestly don't give a damn about your rights." Dean told her bluntly.

Dean made his way into the kitchen, followed closely by Ashley. "I'm calling the cops, this is illegal!" She screamed. Dean ignored her as he pulled open all of the cupboards and drawers. Searching for anything incriminating.

After sweeping the kitchen, Dean stepped into a room straight out of a horror movie. Shelves and shelves of various types of dolls covered the walls, with a large and detailed dollhouse against the back wall. Dean was so busy staring that he didn't notice Ashley slipping up the staircase behind him.

* * *

Dean had heard Sam yelling, and now he was searching the house. There was no way he wouldn't be able hear him yelling once he came into the room.

A smirk spread across Sam's face as Dean completely ignored Ashley's desperate protests. It wasn't often Sam appreciated Dean's occasional disregard for others.

As soon as Dean stepped into the room, Sam began shouting as loudly as his voice would allow. He wasn't going to take any chances, he needed Dean to find him.

Sam watched through the window as a confused expression formed on Dean's face at the sound of Sam's shouts. Uncertainly, Dean approached the dollhouse, his form getting larger and larger as he got nearer. Sam suddenly felt his mouth go dry. He hadn't thought about it before now, about how his brother would now be enormous to him. It was one thing being around the giant Ashley, but Dean, someone he's known his entire life being roughly the size of a skyscraper compared to him was more than a little freaky.

Sam stumbled backwards involuntarily as Dean stepped up directly in front of the dollhouse. Why was he suddenly so anxious? Dean was his brother, he was going to help him. What was it about seeing the person you were closest with as the size of a monument that made him feel so perturbed?

Then suddenly a enormous green eye popped up in the window, the green iris entirely covering up the window. Sam couldn't help the yelp that escaped him. The sight was something straight out of a monster movie or something. Then Dean let out a startled cry that was loud enough to slightly rattle the house. The giant green eye widened and as it stared in at him, with Sam staring back with eyes equally wide.

"Sam?" The thundering voice asked.


	9. Chapter 9

After several long moments Sam finally managed to shake himself of the initial shock caused by seeing his now gigantic older brother. "Y-yeah Dean, it's me." He managed to get out, hating the slight stutter in his voice.

"What...how the hell-" Dean began but Sam quickly interrupted.

"There's no time to explain now, you need to get Ashley." Sam told him. As much as he wanted to get out of the godforsaken dollhouse, it was far more important that Dean secure Ashley first.

Dean continued to stare in at Sam, seemingly unable to comprehend just what he was looking at. Sam glared back impatiently. "Dean now!" He yelled out at him.

"Uh right." Dean nodded numbly before turning around and heading back into the living room. Sam heard Dean moving around for a moment, then the movements became frantic and hurried. "Sam she's gone!" Dean shouted as he ran back to the doorway of the room.

Panic instantly began to set in. "Dammit." Sam cursed under his breath. They had allowed themselves to get distracted and had failed to notice Ashley slipping off somewhere. But she couldn't have left through the front door, surely they would have noticed that, right? "Look upstairs!" Sam called out.

Dean gave a nod before running up the stairs two at a time. Sam could hear the heavy footfalls above him as Dean searched. A few minutes later he returned, without Ashley or any of the other three. Dean stepped back in front of the dollhouse, looking into the same window once again. "I looked everywhere, she's gone." He said grimly. "One of the windows was open with a ladder under it."

"What about the other people, did you see them anywhere?" Sam asked, desperation evident in his voice.

"What other people?" Dean questioned.

"The three other people she kidnapped!" Sam told him impatiently.

Dean shook his head. "There's no one else here now." He said with certainty.

A string of curses flew out of Sam's mouth. "She must have made off with them." He growled. They'd not only lost Ashley, but the three victims they had been looking for in the first place as well. The only thing Sam had gotten accomplished was getting himself shrunken.

"We'll worry about them later," Dean said, "first let's get you out of there." Dean's eye moved away from the window as he began looking over the house for some way to open it.

"The front swings open, there should be a latch somewhere." Sam yelled, backing up into the kitchen in anticipation. He could hear giant hands running over the surface of the house, and then the fumbling of a latch before once again the front of the dollhouse swung open to reveal a giant standing before him, only this time it was his giant brother rather than his giant kidnapper.

Sam watched as Dean's gaze locked onto his form, eyes going wide once again as he took in his brother's full four inch form. "Shit Sam." He breathed.

Sam fidgeted uncomfortably under the prolonged staring of the two massive eyes. "Yeah, apparently it's possible to shrink people." Sam announced. "You learn something new everyday I guess." He added with a bitter chuckle.

"Man this is a whole new level of weird." Dean grumbled.

"Tell me about it." Sam replied. Ghosts and monsters were one thing, but this was just completely bizarre.

"Well don't worry about it Sammy, we'll get you back to your sasquatch-self in no time." Dean assured him.

Sam opened his mouth to agree, but before he could get a word out he found himself watching as an enormous hand shot towards him. He gasped as Dean's hand grabbed him up into a fist and lifted him out of the dollhouse and up into the air. Sam struggled angrily against the grip as Dean held him up in front of his face. "What the hell, Dean?!" Sam yelled, shooting a dirty look at his brother's giant face.

"What?" Dean asked, seeming genuinely surprised by Sam's reaction. "It's not like you'd be able to get down yourself." He told him with a shrug.

Sam scowled. "That's not the point. You don't just grab people like that with no warning." The feeling of being trapped in someone's fist was far too reminiscent of the time's it had been Ashley's fist he had been trapped in. Sam really wasn't looking for a repeat with Dean.

"Well what do you want me to do?" Dean asked with a raised eyebrow. Sam frowned at the question. Frankly he didn't have any idea. It wasn't as though he had a preferred method of giant transportation. In fact he preferred no giant transportation whatsoever, but Dean was right, he wouldn't be able to get around on his own right now.

Sam scanned Dean's person, looking for a spot a four inch tall person would fit both comfortably and non-precariously. There were the pockets of Dean's jacket, but the last thing Sam wanted to do was to ride around in his brother's pockets. Sam's gaze landed on Dean's shoulder, where the collar of his worn leather jacket stood up. Maybe it could serve as the perfect handholds.

"Put me on your shoulder." Sam told his brother, receiving a weird look back instantly. "Listen, I can hold onto your jacket collar and be high enough to see everything. As an added bonus, I won't have to be in your sweaty fist." He snipped.

"Ouch. Alright, fine but you better not fall off or I swear to God." Dean mumbled before slowly lifting Sam up towards his right shoulder. Once Dean opened his fist, Sam dropped down onto the shoulder, thankfully managing to stay on his feet.

After a bit of situating, Sam got himself tucked securely under Dean's collar. He tried not to think too much about the fact that he was sitting on top of his brother's gigantic shoulder. If he ignored Dean's head to his left, Sam could almost imagine he was normal sized again with the way everything looked from up at human eye level.

"You good, Sammy?" Dean's voice was so loud and thunderous now that Sam was so close to his face, he forced himself not to wince at the sound.

"Yeah I'm fine. Before we go we should search the house." Sam said, careful to hide any discomfort he was feeling from showing in his voice. "Keep an eye out for a big old looking book, it's what she used to shrink me." Finding the book would mean finding a way to get back to normal, however Sam had a feeling that this Ashley freak wouldn't have left without it, just like she hadn't left without Samantha, Reece, and Martin.

Sam took in a sharp breath as Dean began walking. It was an entirely indescribable experience, one that Sam certainly didn't enjoy. A glance downwards sent his heart pounding violently at the sight of the long drop down. Sam had never been particularly afraid of heights, but he definitely feared this one.


	10. Chapter 10

As Sam had expected, searching the house came up with nothing, even after Dean had pulled just about everything out of every drawer in search of the spell book. Ashley was clearly out of her mind, but she wasn't stupid enough to leave it behind. That much was evident from the fact that she had effortlessly pulled off three-well now four kidnappings.

"You may want to y'know, duck down a bit." Dean suggested as he headed out the front door of the house. Sam quickly leaned down closer to Dean's collar, they didn't need unnecessary extra attention drawn to them from any neighbors.

Sam gripped the collar with white knuckles as Dean pulled open the driver's side door of the Impala and slid in. The vertigo that came with riding atop a giant's shoulder was absolutely insane, it was like riding a particularly violent roller coaster.

The loud bang of the car door slamming sounded more like a building demolition to Sam at his size. He let out a sharp involuntary hiss at the noise. "Hey, you alright?" Dean's concern-filled voice boomed next to him.

Sam gave a nod of response before he realized Dean likely wouldn't be able to see it given his current position. "Yeah I'm fine, everything just seems a lot louder right now." Sam mumbled.

"I guess they're bigger sounds to you now." Dean replied softly, seeming to have consciously lowered his volume, something Sam was immensely appreciative of. "Uh, you might want to cover your ears for this." Sam glanced down to see Dean's hand gripping the key in the ignition.

Sam let out a low sigh. "Yeah, go ahead." He said after pressing his palms firmly over his ears. Dean turned the key and the engine of the Impala roared to life. Even with his ears covered it sounded more like a dragon than a car.

When the car first lurched into motion Sam wobbled slightly, but once Dean got out onto the road it felt fairly smooth, so long as they avoided any huge potholes he would be fine.

Sam stared out the window at the passing scenery, feeling smaller and smaller as more of the world went by. He still hadn't fully processed his current situation, hadn't taken in just how tiny he now was in comparison to everything around him. The amount of ways he could accidentally end up getting killed at this size was truly terrifying.

"So what exactly happened?" Dean asked suddenly, pulling Sam out of his daze.

"Oh-well I was just at the library looking around when Ashley came up behind me, chanting some kind of Latin curse out of her book." Sam told him. "Before I could stop her I started shrinking and she took back to her house."

"And the other missing people, you said they were there too?" Dean questioned.

Sam felt a guilty lurch in stomach at the mention of Ashley's other victims. "Yeah, she had them locked up in the dollhouse." He stated with disgust.

Dean made a sound in his throat that shared Sam's sentiment. "God, what a freak." He muttered. "So we're dealing with a witch here right?"

Sam shook his head. "No Dean, that's the thing, she's just human." He told him. "She said she got the book from some antique store or something."

"Seriously? This chick really is crazy then." Dean concluded.

A moment later the Impala pulled into the parking lot of the motel they had rented a room from the other day, something that felt like ages ago to Sam now.

Sam ducked down behind his brother's collar once again as Dean walked through the motel's lobby. Thankfully the motel's manager was nowhere to be found.

Dean began ascending the stairs up to the second floor, and although Sam could tell Dean was trying to go slow and keep his body steady, it was still horribly bumpy and altogether an unenjoyable experience. Sam was grateful they only had to go up one flight of stairs.

Once they were secure inside the motel room with the door shut and locked tight, Sam let out a long sigh of relief. "First bit of luck I've had in the past 24 hours." Sam mumbled.

This time Sam didn't even notice the hand coming at him until it was right in front of him. "Shit!" Sam exclaimed as Dean's index and thumb took a hold of him, plucking him up off the shoulder and into the air. While he wasn't completely trapped in a fist like last time, the fact that the only things keeping him from plummeting to his death were two of his brother's fingers made the experience potentially even worse. Fortunately Sam only remained in the air a moment before he found himself deposited on a tabletop.

It took Sam a moment to gather himself, but as soon as he did he shot a dark glare up at the giant standing in front of him. "Dammit Dean, I told you not to do that." Sam fumed.

"I don't get what the big deal is, it's not like I'm gonna drop you." Dean said as he took off his jacket and tossed it onto the end of one of the beds.

"The big deal is it freaks me out." Sam shot back. "And if we're going to get through me being like this, you have to respect that." Sam saw Dean's expression soften instantly.

"You're right," Dean conceded, "I can't imagine what it's like for you right now." He sat down in one of the two chairs at the table. "I know I'd be freaking if I suddenly turned into Thumbelina."

Sam cracked a small smile. "I think Tom Thumb would've been a more accurate comparison." He countered.

Dean grinned, "Nah I think Thumbelina suits you better."

Sam chuckled lightly, but the smile soon faded when he looked up at his towering brother. It was beginning to dawn on him that he was actually going to be stuck like this until they found Ashley and that spell book of hers.

Dean seemed to know exactly what Sam was thinking. "We'll fix this fast, Sam." He assured him. "After all we're not dealing with something with supernatural abilities, it's just one human girl, how hard can she be to find?"


	11. Chapter 11

Dean sat at the table with Sam's laptop in front of him. He was supposed to be trying to figure out if Ashley Warbeck had a MySpace page, and yet he was having a hard time focusing on the task at hand with a four inch version of his brother sitting on the table by his hand. There was no way to express just how unbelievably weird it was to see Sam like this, hell it would be weird seeing anyone like this, but given the fact that it was his little brother...

"Dean, time is kinda of the essence right now." Sam's voice snapped Dean out his thoughts.

Dean ran a hand down his face with a low sigh. "Right, yeah." He returned his attention to the computer, typing Ashley's name into the search bar.

Their hope was that if this girl had a MySpace page, it might feature any friends she had that might be able to help them track her down. They needed some kind of lead seeing as scouring the entire town wasn't really a viable option.

Dean scrolled through the search results, finding only an Ashley Warbeck from Minnesota and one that didn't have their location listed, but did have a profile picture that featured a girl that looked to be no older than thirteen. Dean let out an irritated groan as he leaned back in his chair. "So much for that." He sighed.

A glance down at Sam showed that he was now sporting a worried crease in his brow. The kid was starting to get antsy from their lack of leads, Dean could tell. Not that Dean blamed him, seeing as he would be stuck as a happy meal toy so long as Ashley continued to elude them.

"I don't know Dean, maybe we should see if we can get the police to put out an APB on her." Sam piped up.

Dean shook his head. "They wouldn't know what they'd be getting into, chances are they'd just end up miniaturized too." Sam sighed, giving a nod of agreement.

Dean shut the laptop before pushing back his chair and getting to his feet. When he glanced back down at Sam he saw that he had an alarmed look on his face. Dean felt a twinge of guilt. He had once again managed to freak his brother out today, and this time just by standing up. _'Slow movements'_ He chided himself mentally.

"I think I'm gonna head back to Ashley's neighborhood and ask around." Dean told Sam, careful to keep his voice low and non-painful to Sam's sensitive hearing. "Do you need anything before I go?" He asked as he pulled on his jacket.

Sam crossed his arms over his chest and walked nearer the edge of the table, and towards Dean. "I'm not staying here Dean, I'm coming with you." He said firmly.

Dean sighed. He should of expected this kind of response from Sam, the kid seemed to constantly be trying to put himself in unnecessary danger. It was naive of Dean to think that six feet less of height would change that.

"It's not like I'm doing anything exciting, Sam." Dean said, edging around the real reason he didn't want to take Sam along.

Sam threw one of his classic bitch faces up at Dean. "I'm not just gonna sit here doing nothing." He shot back.

"You can't talk to anyone right now, you'd just be sitting in my pocket the whole time." Dean countered.

"Why are you so hellbent on keeping me here?" Sam questioned as he glared up at Dean.

Frustration bubbled in Dean at Sam's lack of self preservation. Why did he have to be so stubborn about this stuff? Couldn't he just hang back for once without Dean having to plead him to? "Because you're safer here!" Dean blurted, instantly regretting the raised volume of his voice when he saw Sam wince.

Dean let out a low sigh. He hated the way Sam looked at him since he had shrunken, as though Dean were something to be afraid of. Even more he hated the fact that he himself was able to instill any kind of fear in his little brother at all, but how could he prevent it when the little guy got freaked out by his slightest of movements?

Slowly Dean lowered himself into a crouch in front of the table so that he wasn't looming over Sam so much. "Listen, I know you want to help," He said softly, "and I'm sure you'll get a chance to, but like it or not you're more vulnerable right now." Dean could tell by the look on Sam's face that he had touched a sensitive spot.

"I'm small Dean, not useless." Sam replied through clenched teeth.

"I know that and I'm not asking you to sit out the whole game here." Dean told him. "If I get any solid leads on Ashley I'll come back to get you." He promised.

Sam stared down at the table for several long moments before looking back up at Dean and giving a reluctant nod. "You'd better, or I'll kick your ass even if I am tiny."

Dean cracked a smile, lifting a hand to ruffle Sam's hair with a single fingertip. Before he let himself think too much about how weird what he had just done was, Dean unfolded back up to his full height. As he dug the Impala's keys out of his pocket, he spotted the remote to the room's TV on one of the bed's nightstands. Dean grabbed it and set it gingerly next to Sam. "I won't be gone long." He assured him.

Dean made certain to double and triple check that their door was locked before heading off. The last thing they needed was the maid walking in to see a four inch man sitting on the table watching daytime television.

A sense of determination began to set in as Dean made his way out of the motel. He was going to find this Ashley bitch and her stupid spell book too. For Sammy.


	12. Chapter 12

Dean had already been to the houses of Ashley Warbeck's immediate neighbors to the left and right. Both had claimed not to know anything about her, saying only that she was private, and didn't leave her house often.

Hope beginning to dwindle, Dean stepped up to the front door of the house across the street from Ashley's. A few moments after knocking on the door a short elderly woman appeared, clutching a ragged dish cloth in her right hand. "Can I help you?" The woman asked, sizing Dean up through the round wire spectacles resting on her nose.

"Hello ma'am, I'm Agent Walsh with the FBI, would you mind if I ask you just a few questions?" Dean asked, forcing himself to adopt a polite smile.

The woman looked slightly startled to learn she had an FBI agent knocking at her door, but nodded nonetheless. "Yes of course-I mean no I don't mind...what is this about?"

"It's about your neighbor, an Ashley Warbeck." Dean told her.

The woman gave a small gasp. "Oh dear, she's not in trouble is she?" The concern showing on her face seemed to suggest that she, unlike the other neighbors, had some kind of relationship with Ashley. If that was true, she might be able to tell Dean something useful. At the same time, he needed to be careful how he approached it, if it sounded like he was going after Ashley, this woman might be reluctant to provide any information that would help him locate her.

"No ma'am, we just think she may have some information for us about some recent crimes that have taken place in the area." Dean lied smoothly.

Looking relieved, the woman nodded. "That's good to hear." She said as she readjusted the glasses on her face.

"The problem is that Miss Warbeck isn't currently home and hasn't answered her phone, and I'm afraid it's quite urgent I speak with her." Dean explained. "So I hoped you could perhaps give me some ideas on where I might be able to find her." The woman gave a nod of understanding.

"Of course, but I don't know Ashley all that well." Disappointment began to settle in on Dean immediately. "She's a lovely girl, and we've helped each other grow our collections but-"

"Hold on," Dean interrupted, "what collections?"

The old woman gave a bright smile. "Oh we both have a love of collecting dolls, I've been doing it since I was a little girl but my collection still pales in comparison to Ashley's." She told him.

Dean swallowed hard, knowing his brother had been a part of that "collection" just a few hours ago. However Dean doubted this old lady knew about that particular aspect of Ashley's collection. "When's the last time you talked to Ashley?" He asked.

The woman looked upwards in thought for a moment. "It's been nearly a month now I believe, she's seemed quite preoccupied as of late." She responded. _'Preoccupied with kidnapping people'_ Dean thought darkly, remembering that it had been about three weeks ago that Ashley took her first victim.

"Do you have any idea what places Ashley might like to hang out at?" Dean questioned, getting down to the point.

The woman fidgeted with the washcloth in her hand for a moment as she thought. After several long moments in which Dean had to resist showing his impatience, she came up with her answer. "I think she's told me that she likes to go to the library sometimes." Dean didn't stop himself from letting out a low sigh. This had all been a big waste of time. There was no way Ashley would go back to the library, the scene of her crime. Especially considering the fact that it was still probably being looked over by the local police. This old bag had proved just as useless an informant as Ashley's other neighbors.

"Oh, and she likes to shop at the old antique shop." The woman's words instantly recaptured Dean's attention.

"What's the name of this place?" He demanded, losing much of the politeness he had had earlier.

The woman looked alarmed at Dean's sudden urgency but thankfully didn't say anything about it. "Abberline Antiques, it's downtown." She informed him.

Dean offered only a hurried thank you before taking off, eager to get back to the motel and back to Sam. Despite the fact that Dean figured Sam would be safer in the locked motel room than out with him, it still made him nervous leaving him alone now that he was so small and vulnerable to just about everything. With any luck they'd find Ashley hiding out in the antique shop and be able to get Sam back to his enormous stature in a matter of hours.

* * *

Sam stomped down hard on the channel up button of the remote with his boot. He had found that simply pushing it with his hands had proved far more difficult than it would have been a day ago. He glanced up at the TV to see it now displaying a soap opera, as was evidenced by the over the top acting of the woman on screen. Sam sighed as he plopped back down next to the remote. There really was never anything good on during the day.

As much as Sam was itching to be out working the case with Dean, he knew what his brother had said was true. He was practically helpless at his new size. Common everyday actions of any giant, even Dean, suddenly had the potential to put his life at risk. Hell, Sam was more likely to be a burden to Dean than anything else right now. The thought left a cold pit in his stomach.

Suddenly a loud sound came from the door. Sam jumped to his feet, backing up to the edge of the table. Although Sam knew it was probably just Dean coming in, Sam couldn't help but think about the what ifs. What would he do if it was someone else? What if the demons had finally caught up to him? The stream of panicked thoughts continued to run through his mind until he saw Dean stepping into the room.

"Hey Sammy, how you holding up?" Dean asked as soon as he had shut and locked the door behind him.

Sam let out a soft sigh of relief. "About as good as you'd expect someone who's been turned into a living action figure to be." He quipped.

Dean chuckled. "Fair enough." Sam took note of the large paper bag he had in hand.  
"What's that?" Sam asked, though he really didn't need to, he could smell the burger and fries from across the room.

"Lunch." Dean replied, setting the bag down next to Sam with a light thud. "And I hope you're hungry too, 'cause the chicken sandwich I got you is definitely bigger than your entire body." As proof Dean pulled the tinfoil wrapped sandwich out of the bag and set it next to Sam. Sure enough the thing looked big enough for Sam to be able to curl up on. _'So weird'_ he thought to himself.

Sam watched as Dean pulled his own burger and a thing of fries out of the bag. He couldn't help but ogle at the giant food surrounding him. A single french fry alone would probably be enough to fill him up.

"Soap operas, Sam?" Dean asked as he glanced at the TV. "What are you, a middle aged woman?" Sam just rolled his eyes, too absorbed in his current task of trying to remove the tinfoil from around his sandwich. Sam heard a stifled snort from above him.

"Here, let me." Dean said before easily ripping the tinfoil off and tossing it into the now empty paper bag. Sam felt his cheeks tinge red. He couldn't believe he now needed his brother's help to take tinfoil off of a stupid sandwich. This whole situation was getting real demeaning real fast.

Surprisingly, Dean avoided poking anymore fun at Sam's expense, instead sitting down at the table and pulling his own food towards him. "You better hurry up and eat too." He said, a slight grin pulling at the corner of his lips.

"Why's that?" Sam asked.

Dean broke into a full smile. "Because I've got a lead."


	13. Chapter 13

Sam ate tiny chunks out of his massive sandwich as he listened to Dean explain what he'd learned from Ashley's neighbor. By the time Dean had finished his own meal, Sam had barely made a dent in his, and yet he felt certain he couldn't eat another bite. Seeing as the motel room had no fridge to keep it in, Dean ended up just tossing it.

Glancing at the digital clock on the bedside table between the two beds in the room, Sam saw it was now half past two. He felt an uneasiness in his stomach. The more time that passed from when he'd been normal sized, the more anxious Sam got. It was very possible that Ashley could skip town, if she hadn't already, and the more time that passed the more time it gave Ashley to figure out how and where to hide from them.

Sam's worrying was put on hold when he found himself suddenly cast into darkness. He looked up to see that the darkness was in fact just Dean's shadow. "If you're dead set on coming with me, then we've got to figure out where the best place to keep you is." Dean said seriously. "My hands and shoulder are out, which basically just leaves pocket-travel." He told him.

There was something particularly dehumanizing about the idea of riding around in someone's pocket to Sam. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that pockets were intended for carrying objects. Regardless, Sam had been hoping to avoid having to ride around in Dean's pocket, but it seemed that would be impossible.

Sam let out a heavy sigh. "Fine, it beats being here." There was a very brief wavering of disappointment on Dean's face, but he was quick to disguise it.

Dean's hand twitched forwards, instantly putting Sam on edge, but thankfully it stopped before it got too close. Sam looked up to see a slightly sheepish look on Dean's face. "Uh right." He mumbled, supposedly remembering Sam's request not to be grabbed. "How about..." Sam forced himself not to flinch as Dean's hand continued towards him, however this time, instead of coming at him, it stopped a few feet in front of him, palm up. Sam glanced up at his brother who gave him a short nod of encouragement.

Taking in a steadying breath, Sam stepped up onto the offered palm. He tried not to think about how weird the spongy surface of Dean's skin felt beneath his shoes as he walked to the center of the palm. "Might be a good idea to sit down." Dean said quietly from above.

Sam lowered himself down to sit cross-legged, hating how deep the lines of Dean's hand felt to him at this size. "Ok, I-I think I'm good." Sam mumbled. When he got no response he remembered Dean probably hadn't been able to hear his voice at such a low volume, so he instead just threw out a thumbs up to the giant hunter.

Dean must of taken note of the signal, as the hand began to suddenly lurch into motion, moving upwards as the fingers rose up behind him like a kind of protective barrier. Sam could tell Dean was trying hard to keep his hand steady and his movements slow, which Sam was immensely appreciative of. And while this method of being carried was far preferable to the enclosed fist version, the fact that it would be easier for him to fall off the sides was not lost on him.

Expecting to be riding in one of the pockets of Dean's jacket, Sam was surprised when the hand continued up towards Dean's chest. When Sam caught sight of the chest pocket of Dean's gray button up he realized what his brother was intending. Sam jumped to his feet, despite his instincts urging him not to. He shot a glare up at Dean's face several feet above him. "I am not riding in that pocket, Dean."

"What's wrong with it?" Dean asked defensively.

Sam rolled his eyes, "That's a little too close for comfort for me." Not only would Sam be pressed up against Dean's chest, but he'd be smothered under the additional layer of Dean's jacket. On top of that, the chest pocket was considerably smaller than those in the jacket.

"Don't be a baby about it." Dean told him.

Sam scowled. "Why can't I just go in your jacket pocket?" He demanded, arms crossed stubbornly over his chest.

"The jacket pockets are tilted, meaning you could fall out." Dean replied firmly, taking on the bossy big brother tone Sam had heard thousands of times in his lifetime.

As much as Sam wanted to argue it, he knew Dean had a point, and it wasn't worth wasting time on, not when time was of the essence right now. Sam let out a huffy sigh, "Fine."

"Good, now hold still, I'm going to have to pick you up for this." Dean said, giving only a moments warning before plucking Sam up by the waist and hoisting him into the air. It was short lived as seconds later Sam found himself being carefully lowered into Dean's chest pocket.

Once Sam's feet touched down on the fabric bottom of the pocket, the giant fingers around his waist let go and retreated out of the pocket. Sam stumbled on the unsteady surface, eventually giving up on standing and just plopping down in the bottom.

"You good?" Sam startled at the rumbling of Dean's voice. He could literally feel the vibrations in Dean's chest behind him. Talk about surreal.

"I'm-I'm fine, let's just go." Sam shouted. The sooner they got going, the sooner Sam could get out of this fabric prison.

As soon as Dean began walking, the pocket jolted with the movement, each step jostling the occupant within. It was far from a pleasant experience, but Sam wasn't about to complain to Dean, not if he was going to prove he could handle leaving the motel room.

Relief flooded over Sam when he heard the familiar creak of the impala door opening. His relief was interrupted however by the massive vertigo that hit him a moment later. Sam imagined the swift and jarring motion had been caused by Dean getting into the car and was proved right when he heard the loud bang of the car door slamming shut. "Out, Dean." Sam groaned, one hand clutching at his aching head, the other pressed against the side of the pocket in an attempt to stabilize himself.

There was a moment of hesitation before finally two fingers appeared within the pocket, quickly finding Sam's waist once again and lifting him up into the air. When Sam found himself back on his feet it was once again on a palm, with the face of the hand's owner hovering only a couple feet away.

"What's wrong, are you ok?" Dean asked, worry all over his voice.

His stomach beginning to settle somewhat after the series of gigantic movements he had been subject to, Sam gave a small nod in response. "Yeah, just didn't want to spend anymore time than necessary in that thing." He huffed, still in the process of catching his breath.

There was a flash of guilt on Dean's face. "That bad, huh?" Sam opened his mouth to tell Dean that he didn't blame him, but Dean had already began speaking again before Sam could say anything. "You wanna go back on the shoulder for the car trip?" He asked.

A part of Sam wanted to just sit in the passenger's seat like he always did, but knowing how oversized the seat would be for him now...well it was probably for the best that Sam just take Dean's suggestion. "Yeah, thanks." He replied.

After dropping Sam off on his shoulder and waiting for him to get settled, Dean started up the car and pulled out of the motel parking lot.


End file.
